by Jami Denise
She was thoughtful for a moment, staring at me like she wanted to read my mind, and then went about dolling out the salad containers and silverware.
"Well. Don't give up, Jenna. It's a lack of communication and lots of tension. It's normal. I don't know how you've done it this long. Royal is a hard-headed pain in the ass."
I nodded my agreement and sighed. "It used to be so easy. When did things get so damn complicated?"
Melissa came back in the room, smiling. "Did you two start without me?"
I cleared a spot for her to sit next to me. "Nope. We were just getting started.”
"So," Melissa said, grabbing her salad from the table in front of us. "Tell us about your day off. Did you guys have a good lunch date?"
I picked up my container, flipped it open, and started jabbing at the lettuce with the plastic fork. "We had a nice lunch, a little awkward, but we’re out of practice I guess.”
Tara clucked her tongue and shook her head, causing her blonde hair to sway over her shoulder.
"Jenna, honestly, I think you need to be blunt with him. I'm sorry, but Royal's never been real bright when it comes to communication. He expects and assumes things, and you have to take some of the blame. You baby him; you've let him get away with being a lazy ass since day one. He does whatever he wants whenever he wants. You let him off too easy, so now that you're fed up, you expect him to just pull his head out of his ass. You both have to work on this."
My feathers ruffled, and I was ready to lash out, but I knew she was only trying to help. What pissed me off the most was that she was right. She was being honest, and truthfully, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.
I took a deep breath and set my salad down in my lap. "I know this, Tara. I went to the site to do just that—talk. I wanted to see if we could get some of the magic back, you know. I thought it'd be romantic to take him lunch and maybe have a little fun. It feels like there’s no sparks between us anymore, and then other times I feel it like fire. We're never on the same page."
She pointed her fork at me and nodded. "See, right there. You're not sixteen anymore. He's not that hunky, hot boy with the heart-stopping smile. The magic might be gone, but there's so much love and memories between you two. I know you, Jenna. I know you'll never be happy without him, and swear to God, that man will not survive without you. Just learn to appreciate him for what he is."
"I hear that," Melissa said, taking a sip of her soda. "Sometimes it's the little stuff that means the most. That's love. He could’ve just up and bailed when things got tough, like Glenn did to Tara."
I stiffened and looked up to see Tara flinch. One thing Melissa wasn’t, was tactful.
“I think heart-to-heart time is over. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we drop it for now?”
I was done. Talking about it didn’t change anything, and it only made me obsess over it even more. I could tell Tara was over it, too. Once Melissa dropped Glenn’s name, the conversation was over.
It was nearly nine o'clock when I walked through the door that night. My house was a disaster area, including a sink full of dishes, clothes strewn all over, and my lazy husband snuggled up on the couch with my dirty-faced little boy.
I knew, in that moment, that no matter how hard it got, how annoying and impossible Royal became, I would do whatever I had to do to make our marriage work.
* * *
"We need to start thinking about getting Macy a car," I said over my shoulder as I pulled weeds.
It had been on my mind for a while. It just made sense. The girls were involved in so many activities at school that it was impossible to get them all where they needed to be.
"She doesn't need a car. She'll just get in trouble with it. I don't want her getting in an accident or something because she's distracted. We'll talk about it more when she goes away to school. She has us to get her around now."
I huffed and threw the cultivator in the dirt. "No, she has me to get her around. Melissa is leaving the salon to go back to school, and when she does, I won't be able to take off as often as I do now to drive them around. It would help out if she had a car."
"I said no. Fuck," he grumbled, losing his footing on the ladder.
I jumped up to grab a hold of it so he wouldn't fall. The rain gutters he was fixing barely held him while I kept the ladder sturdy.
"Thanks," he grumbled.
"Are you okay?"
He didn’t answer as he climbed down, rain gutter in hand, and stood back against the house. "Jenna, I think we can keep better track of them if she doesn't have her own car. Plus, they're expensive—maintenance, insurance, and gas. It'll be a pain in the ass. Believe me."
I rolled my eyes. He was being an overprotective ass.
"We can find her something small and reliable for next to nothing. Plus, my mom and dad wanted to pitch in on one for graduation. we should give it to her before school starts. She can drive the girls to school, and it would really help me out."
"No. Bad idea. We can't afford all that shit right now."
I threw my hands in the air and huffed again. He was driving me crazy. No matter what I said, he'd rebuff. "What are you talking about? We could get a used car for like, five-thousand dollars, or less. If my parents pay half that's nothing. I'm telling you that I need the help!"
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "You think money grows on trees, Jesus," he mumbled, but it was loud enough for me to hear it. "Look. It's your job to take them to school and pick them up. What are you trying to free up so much time for?"
I felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my head. "You insufferable jerk! What do I need time for? Oh, I don't know... clean up after you filthy animals, cook your damn meals, feed, walk and clean up after your dog, play taxi driver to four kids all day, every day, and work my own damn job. I haven't even shaved my legs in three weeks, Royal! I'm not asking for my days to be spared—I'm asking for a little help! Walk a day in my shoes, and I'm sure you'd be singing a very different tune!"
I stomped off into the house, leaving my yard work for later. I didn't even want to deal with his nonsense. He’d said some stupid things in his time, but that was a doozy. I was buying the girl a car no matter what. If he'd given me a valid reason not to I would’ve listened, but he was full of shit.
I went straight to the kitchen and started pulling things out to fix for lunch. The day had started out fine with us working side by side in the yard. We were having fun for once. Then, the jerk showed up, so I was done.
He was getting on my last nerve.
He didn't follow me in, and for that I was grateful. I had a thousand things to get done and half my day was gone. There was no time to argue with him over stupid things.
I was busy slamming things around in frustration when Skylar and Macy came into the room.
"Hey, Mom," Skylar said, pulling up a stool at the center counter. "Can you give us a ride down to the beach in a little bit?"
The question was simple enough, but after the conversation with Royal, it struck a nerve. "I guess. Yeah. Give me a little bit to finish up lunch and we'll go. Did you girls finish your chores already?"
"Yup," Macy answered, grabbing an apple and taking a seat next to Skylar. "All four bedrooms are clean, the bathrooms scrubbed, and the floors swept. The only thing I couldn't do was the ceiling fans—I need Daddy to help me with the ladder."
I smiled. They were such good kids. I felt horrible for being snappy with them when it wasn't their fault. "Good girls. Don't worry about the ceiling fans—we can do that tomorrow. Go make sure Benji is cleaned up. He's been out back with Angus all morning, so he's probably all slobbery and muddy."
Skylar jumped up and headed out of the room, but Macy stayed seated. I could feel her eyes on me, so I set the knife down and looked over. "What's up, sweetie?"
"I heard you and Dad fighting about me. I don't want a car, Mom. Especially if it's going to make you and Dad fight more. It's not worth it." Her voice was full of hurt, and it made
my heart sink.
"Listen," I started, grabbing her face in my hands. The deep green swam with sadness and confusion, and I just couldn't stand it. "Your Dad is having a hard time dealing with you growing up. He'll come around, don't worry. Okay?"
"All right, Mom." She gave me a watery smile, and my heart sank even more.
"You go get ready. I'll have sandwiches ready when you get back down."
I sent her on her way and finished making lunch when Royal walked in.
"Lunch is ready," I said quietly, not knowing what sort of mood he was in.
"Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm going upstairs to clean up. I'll come back down in a little bit."
"I'm taking the girls to the beach after lunch. I think I'll drag Benji along and let him play for a while."
He nodded and went upstairs without another word.
* * *
About an hour later, we were pulling into the parking lot at the beach. The weather wasn’t great, but the fresh air always helped me clear my head. I couldn’t stand being in that house with Royal another second. The tension was so thick, I was suffocating.
As soon as I parked, the girls were out of the truck like their asses were on fire. I laughed because I knew the feeling. There was no way I would’ve wanted to hang out with my mom when my friends were around. How embarrassing.
I gathered up Benji's toys while he bounced around behind me, anxious to get on the sand. I'd forgotten a beach chair, but thankfully had a blanket to sit on in the back of the truck. Once my arms were full, I gave him the boogie board to hold, and we were on our way.
"Come on, Mommy! I wanna play in the water!" He dragged the board behind him by the leash, tromping and tripping through the sand.
He was so cute and happy. That kid had more energy than all the girls put together. His free spirit was like a beacon of light. It was exactly what I needed. The second the fresh sea air hit me, I felt ten times better. My mind cleared, my body relaxed, and I felt like myself for the first time in weeks. Moments like these were what mattered. My kids mattered. I had to focus on them and keeping things normal, no matter what Royal and I were going through.
I set the blanket out in front of me and let the bags tumble off my arms before flopping down and letting my toes squish into the sand. Even though there was a chill in the air, the sand was still warm and soft and felt fantastic.
Benji’s laughter pulled my attention, and I laughed out loud. He'd tried to pull his shirt off and had it stuck over his head and one arm. "Ben, come over here, goofball! Let me help you."
He walked a few feet forward, so he was in front of me, grumbling about his dumb shirt. I got it off quickly and grabbed a hold of his arm before he could make his escape. "Sunscreen first, Bubba."
There was more grumbling, but he managed to stand still long enough for me to rub the lotion on his back. He had my skin, so no doubt he'd end up pink by the end of the day. As soon as my hand left his body, he was off like a flash, sprinting toward the water.
The waves looked a little bigger than I expected, and much bigger than I felt comfortable with him playing in alone. Royal was always in the water with Benji, and he was a fantastic swimmer, so I didn’t worry so much. I, on the other hand, was not. I could swim—pretty much doggy paddle and hold my breath—but not well enough to drag my child out of the ocean.
I sat up a little, watching him like a hawk, when Royal came up behind me and scared the crap out of me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, smacking his chest with the palm of my hand. "You scared the bajeezus out of me!"
He gave me a cocky smile and pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head before sitting down on the blanket next to me. "What were you thinking so hard about? I've been standing here for ten minutes."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "No you haven't. Benji just got in the water. I was just thinking it’s kind of rough out there for him. Don't you think?"
I took another look toward Benji and smiled when I saw he was right at the shoreline—just like I’d asked. I think he was a little intimidated by the water, too.
"Nah, he's good. He can swim, Jenna. He won't go out far enough, anyway. He knows the rules."
I nodded in agreement and looked over at him again. I wasn’t sure what brought him all the way out to the beach—he’d made it clear he was staying home earlier.
"So, what brings you out here?"
He sighed and sat up, facing me. "I've been a real dick. I know I keep apologizing, but I mean it. I'm going to try to sort this shit out." He ran his hand over my leg, letting it settle on my knee.
I smiled, loving that he was actually talking, and extremely excited that he wanted to spend time with us. It was another hurdle, and I felt victorious. "Are you ready to talk about it? It may help to get it out."
He squeezed my knee and flopped onto his side. "I can't pinpoint one thing, Jenna. I'm stressed out." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was watching his hand rub my knee, and I just couldn't take it. I need to see him. I wanted him to see me.
"Hey," I said softly. "Look at me. Tell me what's going on. Is it me?"
His head snapped up and his eyes were pained. I hated seeing him like that, and frankly, it scared the crap out of me.
“Things have been slow. The economy is kicking me in the balls, Jenna. Nobody is building or spending money. I didn’t want to stress you out, so I just kept it to myself. He took another breath and let his head fall forward again. "I can't let you guys down, Jenna. I won't."
I grabbed his hands and squeezed. "Royal, you could’ve told me about that! I can take more clients, work more hours, cut back on groceries. Whatever it takes. There's no reason for you to bottle this up!"
His eyes flashed back to mine and once again, they were cold and closed off. "I just lost a bid on two projects. Huge projects. I’m working on some things right now to get back on track. This is why I didn’t tell you, Jen. I knew you’d fucking freak out.”
He started to get up, but I wasn’t having it. He couldn’t drop that kind of bomb and shut the hell down on me again. No way.
"No!" I demanded, grabbing his arm. "No way are you doing this. We'll deal with this together, okay? Today, let's have fun with Benji and enjoy ourselves. Tonight, we can talk."
His eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. "Okay, cookie." He gave me a slow, warm kiss before jumping to his feet and removing his shirt. "I'm gonna surprise Benji. I'll be back." He gave me a quick wink before disappearing down the sand toward the water. I watched as Benji turned and squealed in surprise when he saw him.
He grabbed Benji by the waist, raising him over his head before dropping him in the waves. Benji jumped up, head first, shaking his fist and laughing. They started to swim a little bit, so I let myself lie back on the blanket and relax.
Of course, I couldn't let go of what he told me about the business. I couldn't comprehend how he thought I wouldn't understand—I was his wife! We'd been through hard times in the past and we survived. There was no reason why we couldn’t make it work.
Was I worried? Hell yes. I was terrified. I had a mortgage, car payments, children to clothe and feed, and college looming in the near future. I also knew there were things we could do to trim the fat. We lived very comfortably, but I never took that for granted.
In the early years of our marriage, especially when we moved into our first home, we lived off the skin of our teeth. Paycheck to paycheck didn't even cover it. We were constantly robbing Peter to pay Paul. But we managed. We always had a roof over our heads, heat, water, and food. Of course, my parent's helped us out a lot, but it was always just a bag of groceries, a loan so we could buy new tires or fix the transmission on the car, or after Macy was born, it was diapers, formula, and baby clothes.
Back then, I became a pretty savvy shopper. I got very good with coupons and budgets, the second hand store became my favorite place in the world, and I was a fanatic about turning off lights and weatherproofing the h
ouse. We went several winters without a heater and only piles of blankets and our arms to keep us warm.
That’s how I knew we’d be okay. We’d lived on fifty dollars a week back then. After rent, utilities, and gas for the van, we were on a beggar’s budget. It never fazed us. We lived off love and hope.
We could do it again but only if we worked together.
* * *
An hour later, it had gotten way too cold, so we packed everything up and started loading up the truck. The girls were lagging—I knew they weren't ready to leave, but I was exhausted and in no mood to drive all the way back to pick them up.
"I'm going to go find them." Royal adjusted his hat and took off down the beach with Benji in tow.
I smirked. That was going to go over about as well as a pimple on prom night. The girls would freak out when Royal approached them. He loved giving them a hard time, and I was a little disappointed that I'd miss the look on their faces when he found them.
Since it was chilly, I waited in the car and messed around on my phone while I waited for them. After about twenty minutes I finally heard voices, so I looked up in the rearview mirror and saw them coming. I expected Royal to look amused—as he usually did when he embarrassed the girls, but instead, he looked livid. Skylar followed behind him with quick steps, and Macy led the pack, yelling over her shoulder as she stomped toward the truck.
I hopped out of the truck to see what was going on. Skylar slipped past me with a strange look on her face, something like guilt playing in her eyes. I narrowed mine at her but quickly turned to look at Macy.
"Oh my God! Why is he here? I was coming! God!" she complained, coming to stand in front of me with her hands fisted at her sides. There were fat tears running down her cheeks, and I instinctively reached for her.
"What's wrong? Did something happen? I've been texting you for a half hour! We were worried!"
"Yeah, that little fucker with the dreads happened." Royal stood beside Macy and shook his head. "Doesn't that kid own clothes? And what the hell is she wearing, Jenna?"
I took a quick glance at her and didn't find anything wrong with what she had on: a bikini top, denim shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. She looked the same as she did when we left the house—minus the tank top she had covering her suit.